«In these days of unheard-of suffering / One is lucky indeed to have no heart: / Crack-shots plug me again and again, / But have no luck. Riddled with holes, I laugh / At the furious pack: “Tally-ho, boys! / I am a lattice. Look through me. / Isn’t the landscape lovely?” But suppo...»
«Against the rest of the playground"s kids / She bears the resemblance of a froglet. / Worn-out shirt of hers is tucked in boxers, / Curls of her reddish hair are rid / Of comb, her mouth"s long, teeth aren"t well-ordered, / Her set of features is irregular and pointed. / The fathers of t...»
«Among the other playing children she / Seems to be a little awful frogling. / The pants tucked in her poor shirt you see, / The curly hair — tousled all and nodding, / The curve teeth and the mouth long on face, / The features're sharp and ugly to disgrace. The fathers recently have ...»
«And we'll have to walk different ways: / those — to people, the others — to silence, / but we'll walk together / when it's time for dying. A star will rise above the desert, / the sky will rise so high, / and song just for the first time / will be heard by us!»